


Good For Nothing Outlaw

by JediJewels25



Series: Band of Misfits [1]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Female Reader, Gen, Reader-Insert, Shenanigans, Sherwood Forest, Strained Relationships, Vaisey is a great villain and he has some great lines, Will you tolerate this injustice?, added troublemaker to a band of misfits, fighting for the people, seriously the show was so well written, sorry but Guy is an ass, why do I only get these great ideas when I’m going to sleep?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediJewels25/pseuds/JediJewels25
Summary: You have been getting into trouble, which have lead to some dangerous consequences. Your Brother is at his wits-end, and has decided to send you to Knighton to work as a handmade for Lady Marian. Along the way you meet Robin Hood and his band of outlaws. Instead of embracing your new, quite, honest life, you take to the outlaws. After all, if you are going to get into trouble, might as well do it with friends.
Series: Band of Misfits [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725856
Kudos: 5





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I do work on other stories, but I also get new ideas and write new ones. I’ve also noticed there is a lacking of BBC’s 2006 Robin Hood stories out there, (even though the show is amazing and is the best version of Robin Hood) so here we are.

“Thief!!” 

You bolted at the cry. Deniability only worked when they weren’t shouting and getting the guard’s attention. Now your only option was to outwit them in the foot chase. Your luck, although consistent, was not in your favor lately. 

You pushed past people, sprinted down the road, duck into alleys, jumped over crates, and weaved through the houses. Despite your effort, it was in vain. While though you allude the guards who were slow in their armor, it was the spider who waited where she thought she was clear to catch her. 

“Let me go!” You kicked and squirmed against the iron grip. 

He was twice your size at least. He found your attempt for wriggling out mildly annoying. The big galoot grunted as he lifted you off the ground. Loosing your touch to the ground make your fight less formidable. You struggled still. 

With little heft, the giant tossed you on the floor. You landed on your hands and knees, dropping your sack. You scrambled to stand to make another run at the sacrifice of your prize, but two more thugs took an arm each. The giant blocked the door. Your sack was snatched up on the ground. You stilled. 

“My, my. Quite the desperate effort for some meat.” He smiled as he tossed the sack onto the table. It was not a kind smile. Rather cruel amusement. 

You always thought Gideon looked like a snake. 

He paced back to you, “You know, the punishment for thievery is the lost of a finger.” He paused to yank your hood down. “Of course, few thieves are women.” 

You wrestled your arms from your captors, “People are starving! Going sick from lack of meat. That bit would help many mouths!” 

“If you really wanted you help, you would have bought it honestly.” Gideon clasped his hands behind his back. 

“You know damn well the butcher over charges, nobody can afford to buy honestly and keep their houses!” 

Gideon clicked his tongue, “You should watch that tongue girl, less you wish to loose that too.” 

Gideon was not the law, in fact he was quite the opposite. But he had power you didn’t; money you could only dream of having. And that made him a dangerous person. 

“Given your statues, the usual punishment seams a bit harsh.” Gideon turn his back and walked over to the fire. “Unfortunately, I can’t just look the other way over this sort of crime. Perhaps, instead of loosing a finger, we should give you a burn instead.”

As he suggested this, he pulled a branding iron from the fire. A new rush on adrenaline burst into your system, giving you new energy to fight back. Gideon’s men were prepared. They tightened their grips and pushed you forward, pressing against the table. 

“ **Let go of me!!** ” You shouted as you felt your sleeve being rolled up. 

“Now, now,” Gideon wagged a finger, “if you are going to do the crime then you must be prepared to accept the punishment with it.” 

You felt the heat before it even touched your skin. You screamed at a pitch you didn’t think you were capable of reaching anymore. The metal seared your poor arm with an awful hiss. You continued the agonizing cry. You tried to get away from the pain, the nerves in your arm were on fire. But they held you down and let him push the branding iron in just a little bit more. 

Gideon pulled it away. The few seconds got his point across. Your eyes were flooded. You couldn’t help but cry. The smell of burnt hair curled in your nose. 

Gideon leaned over so he hovered inches from your ear, “Next time, don’t get caught.” 

~ 

“What were you thinking?!”

Your arm was in a considerable amount of pain. Cold water help a little, but the pain was just as bad as when you were first burned. You had never felt this much pain before, and it showed no sign of letting up. To rub salt in, you were getting yelled at by your brother. 

“[Name]?” He demanded a response. 

“What do you want me to do? Walk past our neighbors and pretend I don’t see them starving? You know Ron’s kids are sick again, they’re so scrawny you can see the bones on ‘em. They wouldn’t be if they got some meat. I just took a little.” 

“And you got caught!” You brother raised his voice. 

You shot him a dirty glare as fresh tears started to well up. 

He sighed as he rubbed his face, “[Name], I get you want to help. But you can’t help people by stealing! You’re gonna get thrown in the cells, or worse.” 

You pulled your arm out of the bowl and began wrapping your blistering wound in the cleanest cloth you could find. 

“You have to stop.” 

You snapped. “Unless things change-!!!” 

“You are going to get yourself kill!” You brother snapped back. “You were _branded_ by Gideon today. You are lucky to get away with just that. He could have done worse if he wanted and you know it.” 

“I’m not afraid of Gideon.” Your voice wavered as you tried to keep your emotions down. 

“You should be! He runs this town and gets away with what ever he pleases. And now you’ve put yourself on his radar. You really want to take that chance of getting caught by him again? You think he’ll leave you with a branding again the next time?!” 

Hot tears escape down your cheeks between the pain and the fighting. You knew your brother was right. You’d never admit it to him, but he was right. Gideon practically owned the place. There was a reason no body came to your aid when you screamed. Anyone who heard it covered their ears and moved along, silently praying for your suffering to pass quickly. Everyone knew it was worse to get involved.

Your brother ran his fingers through his dark locks, “What am I going to do with you?”

You looked down. Disappointment was almost worse than yelling in some way. 

After an unsatisfying dinner, you curled up on your cot. You were still in a horrid amount of pain. Too much to sleep. You stared at the wall, watching your shadow dimming as the embers cooled. 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite all your protests, your Brother finds you a job in a far away town and takes you there. Along the way you run into a band of thieves in an odd encounter.

It was surprisingly warm given that it was still early in the season. Already the leaves with growing out. Personally you loved the forest. Had you been in a better mood, your appreciate your surroundings more. 

You had left before dawn. Your brother had decided to take you to Knighton. The morning after your run in with Gideon, he sat you down and explained what he a mulled through the night. He told you that he had come to realize that he couldn’t stop you from getting into trouble. He couldn’t keep an eye on you all day. As the man of the house however, he still felt responsible for you. So he decided the best option for the both of you was to send you to employment. Sending you to work in another town where you can take care of yourself. Your brother felt that some honest work without his safety net would be better for you. 

It took him a few days of reaching out. During of which you argued with him. It was some of your nastiest fights as siblings. The relationship had been strained in recent years. Now that it was just the two of you, arguments and disputes were a regular occurrence. 

Your brother got a response back from Knighton, a Nobleman’s daughter was in need of a handmaiden. You were quiet bitter about it. 

“Why should I go work for a rich muck?” 

“They aren’t that rich. He used to be the Sheriff and is still quiet respected. You’re going.” 

One of your neighbors had lent their cart to help haul both you and your things. It wasn’t like you have much, but seeing all your things gathered in the wagon made you realize the permanence. You were being set away, for good. 

There was little you could do once your brother got a response. Because you were family he shared your same sense of stubborn will. No matter what fights you picked or threats you threw, it didn’t change anything. He still made arrangements. When you refused to pack, he gathered your stuff himself. He got a friend to look after the house, the cart and the mule to take you there, and sent a letter out to Knighton letting your future employers know when they should expect you. 

In the end, you could not fight the inevitability. 

You sat on the bench as the cart jostled and rocked across the path. There were few spots where the road was even between debris and weather wearing down some areas. You slouched and crossed your arms until you felt you bum begin to slip; you’d straighten and scoot back before resuming your position. Unlike the days leading up to the trip, you had opted for sulking in silence. 

It was a day ‘n half journey to Knighton according to your brother. That was by taking the main road and starting off as early as you did. He wanted to go on until the sun started setting and get another early start again tomorrow. Breaking only as necessary (mostly for the mule) to stay on schedule. Your Brother wanted to get and present you by mid day at the latest. You complied, resigning there was no point now in fighting it. 

The upside, if you could call it that, was that your brother had procured a skin flask full of ale. Dinking helped distract you from the pain. You knew how to hold your liquor. You drank just enough to manage and ride out the buzz for as long as possible. 

As the sun sank to the west your brother started looking for a spot to make camp. He found a clearing not far off the road that looked level enough. While he took the mule and a couple of buckets down to the creek to find water, you sat with the cart and traced your bandages. You would clean and change the wrapping when he came back. You had to avoid infection while it healed. It still bled when you scraped the scabs and was still a little puffy. Luckily you could hid it with sleeves. 

After your brother came back with the water, he had you get a fire together while he went in search of food. You begrudgingly collected sticks and leaves. You used a small hatchet to cut the larger branches into manageable pieces. Then piled them up with the leaves into a nice mound. You chipped the striking stones together a couple of times until a spark caught. You leaned in and blew at it until the flames began to gown on their own. 

Aside from being able to make a fire, you had several good talents. You knew how to cut wood, you could draw from a well, fix a loose wheel on a cart, and of course, snatch something and run before anyone realized what you had done. 

You were very much aware that stealing was lowbottom behavior. Your father used that phrase many times. You did feel guilty when you did it, at least, in the beginning. But you used excuses to convince yourself into it. That you were only stealing food, that it wasn’t for you, that it wasn’t hurting the business from which you stole. Reasons you used to justify what you did until the guilt passed. Fact was, you had become good at it. You were small, fast and nimble. You could blend into the background with quietness and a cloak because the truth was being a girl made you easy to ignore. As long as you didn’t bring attention to yourself you were always looked over. 

And despite it being wrong, you had helped people. The dozen times you had gotten away and passed the bounty forward, it had been met by grateful hands. Those who suffered gave you blessing and praises when you brought them food they could not afford. The tears of thanks and relief in their faces stirred your heart. So how could you not continue? 

Your brother returned before dark with a hare. You helped him skin and cook it. The two of you ate in silence. He got out the straw mattresses and rolled them out on either side on the fire. 

“We should be there before noon, as long as we get up early.” Your brother tried to converse. 

You washed you wound silently. 

“[Name],” he sighed, “You know I’m doing this for your own good.” 

You shot him a glare, “Must be so hard carrying all that responsibility.” 

“You know, if you weren’t getting into trouble and were actually helping we wouldn’t be here right now.” 

You scoffed, muttering, “You just don’t want to deal with me anymore.” 

He heard you, “No, I don’t. You’re a grown woman [name]. It’s time you learned to be on your own and let me be! There are things I want to do with my life, and I can’t keep putting them on hold to try and pull you out of the fire you had to go run straight into.” 

You swallowed as his words stung. You finished wrapping your arm and slid under your blanket. You turned away from him, taking your vow of silence once more. 

You heard him behind you tiredly, “[Name] I don’t want to see you loose your life, throwing it away. I just can’t do this anymore.” 

You shut your eyes and pretended to block your brother, and his hurtful words, out. 

~

Your brother woke you before dawn. You broke your fast with a bit of bread while he gathered up the camp and got the mule hooked up to the cart. You washed and redressed your wound and took a swing before you got back onto the road. You refused to look at your brother. He didn’t deserved to be acknowledge. 

It didn’t used to be like this. You recalled fond memories as a child playing with your brother. Running through the fields, napping in the warm sun, and sharing a sweet on the special occasion. You were close as playmates. 

But playing was traded for chores. Chores turned to working for money. Specifically your brother was the one who started it. He was older and a boy and encouraged to start making his way. He started acting like an adult. Whereas you dug your heels in, making him snap at you to grow up. Disagreements grew. Like the ground had moved under your feet and now you stood on different mountains. 

As the sun rose and the air became warmer for it, the cart made steady progress. You stopped once to give the mule some water and to alleviate yourselves. The flask was down to it’s last few sips. You were mustering all your control not to just down it all in one gulp. For once it was gone, you’d have nothing else to do than boredly stare at passing scenery and ponder what your life was going to amount to. 

You had little information about your new mistress. She was a nobleman’s daughter, not much older than you were. You had no idea how snobbish she’d be. If she was going to be annoying and picky or if she would be meek and obedient waiting for marriage. 

Your pondering was interrupted when the road turned and a fallen tree came in sight. It was a decent sized log stretched across the withe of the road. Your brother pulled the reigns to stop the mule. He hopped down to investigate the blockage. You sat up and watched. 

“Doesn’t look to be too heavy,” he called over his shoulder, “I think the two of us and roll it off to the side. Lease ‘nuff to get the cart by.” 

You weren’t the least bit eager to do labor. Even if your arm wasn’t injured. You set the flask down and prepared to get off, when you spotted movement out of the side of your eye. In between the trees you could see bodies moving towards you. You turned and saw more coming from the other side. 

“Uh, we seem to have wandered into a raiding party.” You called out nervously.

Your brother’s head shot up. He made a quick glance around to confirm. As the men parted from the trees onto the road, he whispered to you, “Don’t move, I’ll handle this.” 

One of the men who came out of the woodwork hopped onto the fallen tree with a smile and a bow stretched across his shoulders. 

Your Brother addressed the shabby looking party surrounding the cart, “We don’t have much. Just to get to town.”

The man on the tree hopped off, “Oh no need to be alarmed. We are just taking donations for the people of Nottingham.” 

“We don’t have much.” 

“Oh just give it to them.” You snapped from from your seat. “You’re out numbered six to one, nows not the time to anger.” 

Your brother shot you a look trying to convince he was handling it, “Please. The money is for my sister. She needs it to pay for her lodging while she starts new work. It’s to pay for the month.” 

“I can make do with out, just give it to them!” 

“Don’t listen to her, her employer will change their mind. She can’t work if she has no where to sleep. I beg for you to consider.” 

“Stop it!” You hissed and you dug through the pockets of his cloak. You found the small purse and tossed to the forest man’s feet. “Just take it and go. I’d rather sleep in the street than for things to get violent.” 

The man raised his eyebrow. He looped his head through his bow and bent over. Snatching the purse up with a muted jingle. He tugged the strings and counted the pieces. Your fingers itched nervously at you wrapping through the fabric of your sleeve. The man tied the purse once more. 

Seemingly satisfied, he called out, “Little John.” 

A man of bouldering size, largest of the group, with a thick staff, who looked like he could lift the cart and toss it alone, passed his staff to another and tromped to the tree. Bending down, the big man grunted as he rolled the tree out of the way. The man who took the money tossed the purse back at your brother.

“Wh-why are you giving my money back?” 

The man gave you both a charmed smile as he sauntered over to his large companion. “Because, we are honest men. We only take from those who can afford to share. To take from those who struggle just to give to someone else struggling solves nothing.” 

Your brother was baffled. His head trying to process the strange events. You on the other hand had suspicion sitting in your gut. Everything you knew told you there was a catch. No way would a band of thieves just allow you to walk away.. 

“You’re really letting us go?” You eyed the leader wearily. 

The man stepped off to the side with his hand gestured out. To show his good faith. 

You didn’t even try to hide the distrusting look on your face. Your brother snapped out of his bewilderment. He saw the look on your face and knew it was best to leave before you said something to change their minds.

“Thank you sir for your mercy.” Your brother scrambled on and took the reigns. He got the mule started and shuffled down the road. You turned back to check if your were being followed. The party retreated back into the forest as though they were never there. Except for the man with the bow. He lingered a little longer before he too disappeared in the trees. 


End file.
